


an ever fixed mark

by a_ufo_party



Category: Edgar Allan Poe's Murder Mystery Dinner Party (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Annapoe, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Period Drama AU, Victorian Era AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 21:06:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17251400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_ufo_party/pseuds/a_ufo_party
Summary: When HG agrees to attend Poe's costume ball, he has no intention of falling for Lenore again. The last time he developed feelings, it had ended in heartbreak. However, upon reuniting with the sweetheart of his youth, he find himself as much in love with her as ever. (Victorian era Wellenore AU)





	an ever fixed mark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Feavel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feavel/gifts).



> Happy Shipwrecked Secret Santa! So sorry I took until the very last second to post this. As you can see, it ended up being a lot longer than I had initially planned haha! Anyways, I hope you enjoy it! Happy holidays <3

**_Prologue_ **

_ “So, when do you leave?” Lady Lenore asked, before taking a bite of the freshly picked peach in her hand.  _

_ She lay, sprawled across the picnic blanket, her white lace dress a stark contrast to the vivid summer colors which surrounded the pair.  _

_ HG looked up from his book, “I-I plan to go first thing tomorrow.” _

_ She nodded, seemingly disappointed in the confirmation of that which she already knew.  _

_ HG had been visiting the Poes for nearly a month, and he could not remember a time when he had been happier. The reason for his visit had originally been to spend time with Edgar, his former schoolfellow and friend, but he had quickly found himself utterly captivated by Edgar’s younger sister, Lenore. The woman had a liveliness about her which could not have been more different from her somber brother. She laughed and teased and danced and argued with a confidence HG had never possessed. _

_ And most shocking of all, she liked him. _

_ As his visit went on, she seeked out his company; in the library, at tea, during his walks, he constantly found himself beside her. As it turned out, she was a very intelligent woman, and enjoyed reading every bit as much as the young inventor. She also enjoyed designing, and while her inventions were that of cloth and ribbon, her industrious mind was a natural counterpart to HG’s. _

_ “What if you...I don’t know, extended your visit? For like a week?” Lenore spoke again, rolling onto her elbow to grin at him. _

_ HG returned the smile, feeling a hopeful pang in his chest. “You would...want me to stay?” _

_ “Uh, yeah. That’s why I asked.”  _

_ Letting out a breathy laugh, he folded his book and set it aside. “Well, I...I wish I could, however-” _

_ “-however, you gotta go back to the university and yada yada yada.” Lenore sighed, falling back against the blanket.  _

_ “I’m sorry.” _

_ “No, don’t be sorry. As it turns out, I just...kinda like hanging out with you, that’s all.” She waved her hand in the air, before taking another bite of the peach.  _

_ After a moment of warmth, he replied softly. “The feeling is mutual.”  _

_ Turning her head slightly, she looked up at him. “Do you like to dance, Mr. Wells?” _

_ “Not particularly, no.” The answer fell from his lips without thought. However, seeing the implying sparkle in her eyes, he added, “But I-I suppose...with the right partner-” _

_ “Would you like to dance with me?” _

_ HG’s stomach flipped nervously. The thought of a ballroom suddenly filled his mind: flickering candlelight, swooping skirts, lilting music, and hundred of eyes. Eyes which would bore into him as he escorted Lenore (the loveliest girl in attendance) onto the dancefloor. His brain conjured thoughts of his arms wrapping around her, her lips whispering into his ear, their fingers brushing against each other… _

_ “I would be honored.” He managed to say, his small voice wavering more so than usual. _

_ Lenore grinned, “Then come to our costume ball this year. It’s in a few months, and it’s always so much fun. You can wear whatever you want, literally, Oscar wore a dress last year! And we all dance and tell ghost stories and Edgar sulks in the corner.” _

_ “I-I don’t know if I’ll be able to…” He trailed off as his gaze met hers: Twinkling, hopeful eyes, haloed by thick lashes and blushing skin. In a moment, all reasons to decline the invitation faded away. “I’ll try.” _

_..._

_ HG did not attend that years costume ball. _

_ He had planned to. _

_ However, two weeks before his intended journey he had opened a newspaper to see the announcement: Lady Lenore Poe was engaged to wealthy bachelor Guy de Vere. _

_ He had not realized the intensity of his feelings for the young woman until he read this headline. In that moment, the scenes he had unknowingly painted of his future with her were broken into pieces.  _

_ He had been mistaken of her feelings. _

_ He had been a fool. _

_ In a breathless state of misery, he wrote a letter, apologizing that he would be unable to attend the ball after all. And though it caused his chest to ache with every stroke of his pen, he congratulated Lenore on her engagement. _

_ Then, he tried to move on. _

_ But he never had been any good at moving on. _

_... _

_ The following year, the house of Poe was in mourning due to the untimely death of Guy de Vere, so the costume ball was cancelled. HG wrote the family a letter, offering his most sincere condolences and regards, but he did not attend the funeral. He felt it wouldn’t be right, as he had never met the fellow. And despite his affinity for the family, he thought, perhaps he still cared for one member a bit too much to justify his presence. _

_ … _

_ When the house was no longer in mourning, Edgar wrote to HG inviting him to the costume ball. The return of the party was to be larger than ever, and he wanted to introduce the young man to his fiance, the beautiful Annabel Lee.  _

_ And HG, finally, could find no more excuses. If two years was not a long enough mourning period for a relationship which never even took place, then he was surely doomed to a life of loneliness. _

_ So, with a final reluctant pang, he wrote in reply: _

_ I’ll be there. _

* * *

 

The Poe’s estate loomed formidably against the cloud draped sky, its tarnished grey walls illuminated periodically by lightning. Lanterns were hung in the skeleton trees surrounding the home, and scarlet leaves clung to the stone walk leading up to its door. 

In the windows, HG could already see crowds filling the firelit rooms, as costumed strangers poured through the tall doors.

He felt rather faint.

Pulling his cloak around his body, he lowered his head and made his way through the rain to the warm glow of the party.

“HG! Very pleased to see you.” Edgar’s voice greeted him the moment he was inside. He wore a dark suit, and black feathered mask which made him resemble some bird of prey. Despite this costume, the gaunt young man looked downright jubilant for the first time since HG could remember. And the reason for this mood change was evident by the gorgeous woman on his arm. “This is the beautiful Annabel Lee, my fiance.”

“Very pleased to meet you, Mr. Wells!” Miss Lee beamed, her eyes sparkling behind a pearl crusted mask. “Edgar and Lenore have told me all about you, I feel as if we’re already great friends.”

“Lenore?” The name fell from his lips before he could stop himself. 

“Yes, my sister…” Poe said, looking thoroughly confused. “You haven’t forgotten her, have you?”

“Oh, of-of course not!” HG replied quickly, attempting to regain some composure. “I would never-I, um, merely did not think...that she would remember me.”

“Of course I remember you.” An all-too-familiar voice suddenly rang through his ears. 

Spinning around clumsily, HG’s eyes settled upon the striking figure of Lenore.

And his heart swelled with nostalgic affection.

She wore a black dress with a massive, sweeping skirt, and a veil of black lace. Her dark eyes twinkled from behind a skull mask, and her grinning lips were painted a dark wine color.

“How are you, Mr. Wells?” 

“I’m, um…” he started, his voice wavering.

Seeing his eyes flicker down her frame, Lenore smirked. “Yeah, I’m a dead bride. I know it’s morbid, given the whole ‘actual widow’ thing, but I fell in love with this dress so I’m going with it.”

“You look lovely.” HG nodded, meaning the compliment with every fiber of his being.

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” She winked. “Although...I have no idea what you’re supposed to be.”

“Oh, I am, um…” Looking down at himself, he sighed, “a very underdressed party-goer.”

Lenore smirked, putting her hands on her hips and looking him up and down. “Okay, you know what? I have an idea.”

“You do?”

“Mhm.” Taking several steps forward, she grabbed HG’s hand.

His breath hitched.

Heart beating in his ears, he watched as she took one of the many rings on her fingers and slid it onto his. Then, she removed her mask and pulled it over his face. 

“There. Now you’re a dead groom!”

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly-” he protested.

“Yes, you could possibly.”

“But, your costume…”

“...still looks hella without the mask. I’ll smudge my lipstick a little and there ya go: still a zombie.” Crossing her arms, she wiggled her eyebrows, “It’s my party. I insist.” 

“Well, then...thank you.” He smiled in defeat.

“You’re very welcome.” For a moment, she beamed at him flirtatiously. Then, a crowd of people entered through the front door and her eyes flickered to them. “Oh, there’s Oscar and...is that Mary Anne? I gotta say hi.”

“Of course.”

“Save me a dance later, ‘kay?” She called as she joined the other group.

And as HG stared after her, the silver on his ring finger burning, he was certain of one thing:

He was not over Lenore.

* * *

 

“Spain? No. No, you do not want to go to Spain. Overrated, the whole damn place. Now, if you really want a sunset, you’ll go to Italy.” Ernest showboated, speaking just loud enough to ensure every young woman within ten feet would overhear and join his ever growing circle. “That is the place to bring a lady. Isn’t that right, HG?”

Looking up, the inventor started. “Oh, um, I-I’ve never been to either, actually.” 

He hoped this bland answer would end the conversation before it began. He had been standing against the wall since the party began, a glass of untouched punch in his hand. Several people had come and gone, and he had made polite, distracted conversation with each of them. However, he was perfectly content to be without company at the moment. For his full attention was occupied with glancing at Lenore as she dazzled the room, and scolding himself for the way his heart pulsed.

Sadly, Ernest was a rather persistent man, with a selective inability to read signals, so he continued, “Haven’t been? Good God, can you believe this, ladies? Which of you would like to take my poor friend on a trip, huh?” 

“No, really, I’m quite alright.” He smiled weakly, taking a step away from the group.

“His loss, huh ladies?” Ernest winked as HG made his escape. “Now, who wants to hear about the time I fought a wild bobcat…”

Making his way around the perimeter of the ballroom, HG looked for somewhere inconspicuous to stand. In one corner, he saw Oscar monologuing to a group of handsome young men, all of whom seemed completely taken with the extravagant gentleman. In another, Edgar and Annabel were beaming at each other and whispering low. By the punch bowl, Mary Shelley was glaring at her surroundings, as Charlotte Bronte muttered to her with a look of disgust. 

He could have approached any one of them, and they would have spoken to him (some more enthusiastically than others) but, as ashamed as he was to admit it, there was only one person he really wanted to talk with...and she was dancing with someone else.

So, he made his way towards the kitchen in hopes of occupying himself with sampling whatever delights the chefs had prepared. However, he was intercepted on the way by a short gentleman catching his arm.

“Well, hello my good man! Fancy seeing you here!” He spoke, voice forcefully low.

Turning, HG started, “Oh, um, hello…”

“How long has it been? Three, no, four years? Time really does fly, ay?”

“I-I’m not sure I remember-”

“I’m George! George Eliot.” He grinned, adjusting the wide brimmed fedora on his head. 

For a moment, HG wracked his brain for where he knew this man from. Then, as his eyes fixed on the obviously fake mustache, and delicate features, his previous confusion was replaced...with more confusion. “Mary Anne?”

It was, indeed, the young woman with whom he had been acquainted through mutual friends. However, instead of her usual gown, she wore men’s clothes, and had tucked her hair into the hat.

“Very funny, my good sir! Very funny!” Slapping him roughly on the arm, George forced a belly laugh. “You are too much. No, I believe you have confused me for a damsel. As you can see from my facial hair, I am...all man.”

“Oh, I’m sorry…”

“That’s quite alright, Mr. Wells. Now, how’s about you and I go into the billiard room and play a few rounds-”

“Actually, Mr. Wells owes me a dance.” Lenore cut in, appearing behind him.

Swiveling ungracefully, HG felt his heart leap. “Lenore! I-”

“Didn’t forget about me again, did you?” She lifted an eyebrow in feigned annoyance. 

“No, never!” He shook his head, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically.

“Good, ‘cause a dead bride’s gotta have her dead groom.”

_ Her  _ groom.

His face burned.

“Mary Anne-I mean, George, do you mind if I steal him away?” Lenore asked, her fingers wrapping around HG’s arm and dragging him close.

He swallowed roughly.

“No, not at all, my lady. I shall find another gentleman to join me.” Following a sweeping bow, George’s eyes flickered to where Ernest stood. “Say, Hemingway! Join me for a round…”

Then, HG felt himself being pulled onto the dancefloor.

And in a moment, he was facing Lenore, who looked at him expectantly. “Ready?”

Trying to steady his trembling hands, he placed one on her slender waist, and took hers with the other. “Of course.”

“Ya know, there aren’t any chaperones...you don’t have to stand so far away.” Lenore grinned, taking a step closer. Her fingers brushed up his shoulder to settle behind his neck.

The pain which had been dull in his chest since he’d arrived began to spread like wildfire at her touch. They had not even begun to dance, and yet the room was spinning. 

Laughing softly, he willed the panic in his veins not to show through his tone, “Sorry...I suppose I’m a bit nervous.”

“Nervous?” She cocked her head as the music started.

“Yes, well...I am not one for dancing...especially in front of so many people,” said HG, glancing around the massive room.

“Yeah, I remember.” As their feet began to move together, she nodded. “But I seem to also recall you saying you would like to dance with me.”

“You remember that?”

“Uh, yeah. I never forget a compliment. I’m hella vain.” She smirked, giving him a wink as she spun away from him.

He grinned at her sarcasm, letting himself relax slightly “I have missed you.”

When she returned to his arms, she positioned herself closer still, their chests nearly touching.

HG didn’t mind, not at all. But it certainly was an inconvenient pleasure for someone with the intention of not falling in love all over again. 

“Yeah?” Looking up at him, the humor in her eyes was replaced with a softness. “You have?”

“Indeed.” He nodded, his gaze unwaveringly glued to hers. 

“Well, I’ve missed you too.” 

He opened his mouth to ask after her health or some formality, but she spoke before he could.

“It’s been two years.” 

He froze.

These words, simple and concise, pierced HG’s chest like a quill. Such an obvious statement should not have affected him so, and yet, he found himself welling up with regret almost immediately.

He had spent two years without Lenore in his life. 

He had avoided her for two full years. 

How had he survived that?

“I know.” He murmured in reply.

A beat passed.

Then, Lenore tossed her hair. “A lot has happened since we last talked, so let me fill you in. Edgar found himself a fiance, but I still don’t know how he pulled that off. Have you seen Annabel? She is so far out of his league it’s sad.”

“How did that come about?” HG asked, glancing at the pair who still stood together in a corner. 

“Well, she moved in next door about a year ago and started bringing us cakes and flowers and stuff because she saw the house was in mourning. What a babe, am I right? But anyways, she and Edgar started talking whenever she was over to hangout with me, and eventually they were totally making me a third wheel, being all coupley at tea and taking walks in the garden. I still don’t know why she decided to marry him, but Edgar has gotten a lot less grumpy since she’s been around, so that’s a plus.”

“He does seem much happier.” HG agreed with a smile.

“And it’s nice having Anna around. It was getting kinda depressing around here with all the mourning in addition to Edgar’s usual brooding.”

Cautiously, he lifted his eyes to read her expression. “Speaking of...how are you? I-I meant to ask earlier, but I, um…” 

“I’m good.”

“Oh.” HG blinked. “Good-I’m glad.”

“Like, it sucked, but it’s over now. Guy was a dear, but if I’m being honest I didn’t know him that well. We really rushed everything, and before I knew it, he was dead.” 

“That must have been hard.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t fun.” She looked a little sad, but it quickly faded into a weighty determination. “But, I don’t like to live in the past. I prefer to think about...the future.”

When she said this, her lips twisted up slightly, as though her words were significant.

And HG felt their impact deep in his chest. “Yes, that...that is a wise philosophy.”

“I’ve been known to have them.” Grinning, she spun away from him, then back.  “What about you? Any special ladies in your life?” 

“No.” He replied at once, almost automatically.

Eyes flickering down his body, she smirked flirtatiously. “I find that pretty hard to believe.”

“No, I-I’m afraid I’m telling the truth.” He stuttered in a panic. “There is no one.” 

“Well, you’ll find someone.”

“I’m not so sure.” The words fell from his lips without thought. He had wanted to tell her that he had already found someone, that he doubted he’d ever feel that way again, that that someone was the woman he held in his arms, but he didn’t. He couldn’t.

“Well, listen, when you do find someone, take a little advice from your local widow: don’t rush it. Even if you’re lonely and he...she is cute and hella rich, I think it’s worth it to wait...to hold out for what you really want.”

Eyes widening, HG tried to read her expression.

Was she talking about him?

He dismissed the thought as soon as it entered his mind. But still, what else could she be speaking of?

The music slowed, and HG felt his heart sinking with it.

Their feet came to a still.

“Well, Mr. Wells, it was a pleasure.” Lenore grinned, taking a step back and dropping her hand from his neck.

His skin felt cold where she had touched.

“Indeed, a pleasure.” He repeated softly, looking around as the surrounding partners began to split.

For a moment, the two stood still as the shuffle of skirts and heels raged around them.

Then, Lenore sighed. “I guess I should go find Ernest. He did ask for the next dance, and since I’m the hostess I gotta give it to him, but like...at what cost?”

HG grinned, looking back at her.

Twinkling eyes captured his own. “Find me later, alright?”

He nodded.

Gently, she reached out and squeezed his hand in hers. 

Their fingers lingered together for a moment, before Lenore gave him a wink and disappeared into the crowd.

And HG, who had not realized he was holding his breath, exhaled.

* * *

 

The storm outside had gotten worse.

HG had almost forgotten the state of the weather, until Edgar had approached him and told him it was not safe to travel the great distance home; he would stay in one of the guest rooms.

The chamber was large: larger than his own cramped quarters at the university where he worked. Windows overlooking the gardens lined the walls, sending illuminating white light across the room whenever lightning struck. There was a four poster bed, with sinfully soft sheets, which had the Poe Family Crest carved into its dark wood-a constant reminder of where he was, of who’s home he was sleeping in.

He had stayed with the Poe’s before, obviously, but it felt different this time.

As he sunk into the mattress, his eyes lingered on the crest and it sent a shiver down his spine.

He had danced with her tonight.

His arms had held her close, and despite the crowd of onlookers, it had felt private, intimate, as if time stopped to allow them a moment alone. 

She had asked him to find her later, however, when the time had come for him to retire for the evening, she was still dancing.

She always seemed to be dancing.

Tomorrow, he thought, closing his eyes willfully. Tomorrow he would find her before he left and he would…

He would say goodbye.

With every beat of his heart, he composed a new line to add to his love confession, and yet, he would not say it. The ernest phrases of devotion would be condensed to a simple, “Thank you,” and “Goodbye.”

She had spoken of the future, and he was a thing of her past. 

They would be friends again, and he would treasure that friendship.

It would have to be enough.

As he tried to rest, an hour passed like molasses.

No matter how hard the young man begged for sleep, his eyes would open again, and Lenore would fill his mind.

So, resigning to slumber on the carriage ride home, he rose, pulled a robe over his nightshirt and trousers, and made his way to the library. 

There, he could surely find a distraction from his pining.

* * *

 

He was several pages into a book of poetry when he heard a shuffling by the library door. Looking up, he watched as candle light flooded the hallway and a shadow stretched up the wall.

Then, to his surprise, Lenore appeared. She wore her hair loose across her shoulders, and a flowy white nightgown clung to her frame.

HG took in a sharp breath and dropped the book.

Lenore looked shocked to see him as well, but recovered at once.

“Well, well, well, fancy seeing you here.” She grinned, setting her candle on the nearest table. 

“Er, yes, I was...um…”

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Rising to his feet, HG’s heart pulsed in his ribs. “Yes, I um...indeed.”

Nodding, Lenore turned and ran her fingers across the spines of the books beside her. “Yeah, me neither. I can never sleep after a party...all that adrenaline.” 

He watched her for a moment, the way her brown eyes turned a sort of honey in the candlelight, the way they flickered across the shelf before settling on a title that pleased her. Pushing her hair behind her ear, her fingers carefully slid the novel out of its place. However, upon inspecting the first page, she rolled her eyes and put it back.

“What are you looking for?” HG approached, being sure to stop before he was too close.

“I don’t know...something scary, maybe.” She said, continuing to search the shelves. “Although since Edgar’s become all lovey dovey, all we seem to have around is poetry. Lame.”

He chuckled, reclining against the bookshelf in an attempt at appearing relaxed. “You like scary stories, I remember.”

“Yeah, especial ghost stories.” Turning to face him, she lifted an eyebrow. “What about you?”

“Wha-what about me?” 

“Do you like ghosts?” 

“Yes, I suppose I do.” He nodded, “There is certainly an-an appeal in the idea of something, or someone, that was lost to you, returning.”

“You got that right,” winking, Lenore reached out to brush a piece of hair out of HG’s eyes.

Her fingertips grazed his skin slightly as she did this, making the inventor rather dizzy. 

“I am sorry that I have stayed away for so long.” He said, pulling his robe tighter around him. “I was...I was kept rather busy, and I-”

“Well, you’re here now.” Taking a step closer, she fingered the edge of his robe thoughtfully.

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

“And...I don't blame you for staying away, you know.”

“You...you don’t?”

“No! I mean, I know why. At least, I think I do. If I’m wrong, I’m gonna look hella concieted, but-”

“You are not wrong.” He confessed before he could stop himself.

“You were in love with me?”

Not trusting himself with words, he nodded.

Then, prompted by the raw pain which spread across his chest, he murmured, “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t you dare apologize!” Lifting her gaze, Lenore’s eyebrows drew together. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Perhaps not, but...I suppose I am two years too late.” 

Letting out a breath, Lenore searched his face. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I wanted to. I-I was going to tell you at the ball, but…” He trailed off.

“...but then I got engaged.”

“Indeed.” His eyes stung at the memory. “Then I didn’t want to put a damper on your celebration with my one-sided affection, so I thought it best to...to stay away.”

For a long moment, the old friends were silent.

Then, Lenore took in a cautious breath, “They...weren’t one-sided, you know.”

“What?” Falling back a step, HG felt his eyes grow wide.

“I was in love with you too.” 

“But-but you-”

“-got married? Yeah. But that’s because I was so used to falling in love for like a week, and then moving on, I thought that was gonna happen with you. I thought I’d get over you like I did everyone else. So, when Guy came along, and was sweet and hella rich and wanted to marry me, I assumed that was it. I’d have a comfortable marriage, and I’d move on. But I just kept thinking about you.”

As she spoke, HG felt a tightness growing in his throat. “So...had I told you of my feelings that summer, had I not waited…”

“HG, I...” Lenore sighed, closing her eyes. “I don’t know. Like I said, I was so used to having short-term romances, you took me by surprise. I didn’t realize how strong my feelings were until...until I tried to move on.”

A beat passed.

Then, Lenore opened her eyes and stood up straight. “But I don’t like to live in the past. All it does is make you discontent with the present.”

“Yes...I know.” He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Her gaze lingered for a moment on his face, before she took her candle from the table and turned to leave, “Goodnight, HG.”

“Yes, goodnight.” He breathed before she disappeared through the door.

For a long moment, HG stood still, his mind frantically unravelling all that she had said. 

She had loved him.

He had loved her.

And yet, nothing had happened.

Turning, he watched the flickering candlelight move down the hallway and her words from earlier echoed through his head.

_ “I prefer to think about...the future.” _

And perhaps he was simply exhausted, but HG found himself doing something uncharacteristically bold.

Without a moment’s apprehension, he began to run after Lenore.

“Wait!” He called, catching her arm.

Spinning to face him, she lifted her eyebrows. “HG, what-”

“I love you,” he spoke earnestly, abandoning his planned confession for the simplest approach. “Still.”

For a moment, Lenore looked up at him, a fragile disbelief in her gaze.

Then, tossing the candle onto the console table, she fell forward and kissed him.

The moment their lips met, HG let out a shuddering gasp. Then, he pulled her close, cool relief flooding his body.

And he kissed her back.

The years he had spent pining after the witty young woman melted away as they held each other; all of the heartache, confusion, and regret was justified in his mind. It was worth it. She was worth it. 

Her lips were soft as a flower petal, and her hands were smooth and gentle. Even at his most lovesick, when he couldn't hear her name without feeling dizzy, he had not dared imagine this feeling. 

But now he was not imagining.

It was real.

She was real.

Pulling away just enough to breath, Lenore whispered, “I love you.”

Pressing his forehead to hers, HG lifted his hand to cup her cheek. “Truly?”

“God, yes! I love you.” She repeated, a tearful laugh bubbling from her lips.

“That is a relief.” He joked softly, his thumb brushing away the tears.

Then, leaning forward, he kissed her again: slowly, gently, to remind himself once more that this was not a dream.

“Hey, HG?” She breathed after they had parted, her fingers gripping the fabric at his waist.

“Yes?”

“Please don’t go home tomorrow.”

Grinning, he felt a warmth spread through his body. “My dear Lenore, I shall stay as long as you’ll have me.”

“Yeah?”

“Indeed.”

“Good.”

And, as she pulled him into a kiss once more, HG felt certain that they would never be parted again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it, reviews are always super appreciated! <3


End file.
